


I Could Set You Free

by 1JettaPug, orphan_account



Category: KISS (US Band)
Genre: 1970s, Anal Fingering, Anal Sex, Daddy Kink, M/M, Oral Sex, Rock Stars, Threesome - M/M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-01-14
Updated: 2020-01-18
Packaged: 2021-02-27 04:54:39
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 2
Words: 7,067
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/22251415
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/1JettaPug/pseuds/1JettaPug, https://archiveofourown.org/users/orphan_account/pseuds/orphan_account
Summary: The Hotter Than Hell photoshoot turned out to be wilder than expected. With all the booze, drugs, and babes, temptation was rising higher and higher in Peter’s head, and all it took was one look at Paul on that bed for him to blow.
Relationships: Ace Frehley/Paul Stanley, Peter Criss/Paul Stanley (KISS)
Comments: 3
Kudos: 31





	1. Chapter 1

Stomping out his second cigarette onto the balcony, Peter turned his head to glance at Ace. He had just stumbled out of the studio in his silvery robe and started to light up his first stick. The lead guitarist gave him a grin.

“Hell of a night, right, Petey?”

“Hotter than hell,” Peter nodded, shaking his head. The ends of his silver streak hair bounced off his cheeks as he laughed. He still couldn’t believe the madness that only just went down.

“Can you believe Gene decided to take off when he heard his ma showed up at the airport with cakes ‘n jams and shit? What a schmuck! He’s leavin’ us to get our own taxi back to the hotel.”

“Can you really blame him? Free food? Free _home-cooked_ food? You wouldn’t see me passin’ such a sweet deal up.”

“Yeah, yeah,” Ace sighed, taking a long draw, then blowing it out. “He still could’ve left us the car.”

“Eh, we’ll get him back. We’ll order room service on his dime when we get back to the hotel.”

“He’ll kill us!” Ace said, bursting into a fit of giggles. “He’ll chop us up into lil’ pieces and feed us to the pigeons all ‘cause we charged thirty bucks to his card. That’s seriously the hill ya wanna die on, Petey?”

“Sure. Why the hell not?” Peter shrugged, looking back over the parking lot and across at the buildings beyond. He felt like he could handle pretty much anything life had to throw at him after such a photoshoot. It was like experiencing an acid trip in real life. He felt like Alice falling down the rabbit hole into the unknown. Although, he was pretty sure he hadn’t eaten any mushrooms while in that world of surreal insanity.

Sure, he, like everyone, had had a little bit of each of the drinks Norman Seeff had brought in. Champagne, scotch, whiskey, wine, rum...but he was sure that scotch was what _really_ did him in. He never got completely sloshed, though. The crazy half-naked men and topless girls were plenty to keep him somewhat focused and curious, but he couldn’t remember half of what exactly had happened in there.

Peter was sure of one thing, though; all the booze, blow and tits made this his absolute favorite photoshoot yet.

A soft smile stretched across his lips as he thought about it more. Somehow through all the haze and fog, this craziness was making him realize how real all of it was. He was _finally_ making it. Two albums under their belts, crazy photoshoots, traveling around on tours, grabbing a bit of tail here and there from some sweet southern girl who liked his tough accent. Yeah. He wasn’t just drumming for those small bars in Brooklyn anymore. He was actually making it.

“Hey, ah… Petey… I’m feelin’ like we forgot something... Something important...” Ace muttered, scratching the white paint from the left side of his face.

Peter raised a brow at him, unhappy to be interrupted from his thoughts. “What the hell are you talkin’ about? We got everything that’s ours packed up. We just need to clean off our faces before we go.”

“Eh, well, half of my face...” Ace murmured, rubbing at the back of his neck.

“That’s your own fault for getting in that car accident.” Peter said, plucking another cigarette from his case. “But whatever. I won’t be a broken record like the others. So, what did we forget? Gene’s smelly ass boots? ‘Cause if so, I ain’t fuckin’ touching them.”

The lead guitarist squinted his eyes, blowing out the smoke from his cigarette before finally remembering. “PAULIE!” He chuckled. “He’s still in there, Cat.”

Peter smirked. He’d never seen Paul so drunk in his life. It was rather cute, now that he thought about it. The Starchild lay half naked on the velvet bed, dozens of men and women surrounding him, all wanting a piece of him. Peter would’ve gotten a piece himself if they were alone without his wife or bandmates in the room... 

He tossed the rest of his cigarette on the floor before stomping it out and turning back.

“You gonna go get him?” Ace asked.

“Can’t exactly leave him alone in there, can I?” Peter laughed, returning to the studio where the rhythm guitarist would inevitably still be lying on the bed or the floor. 

“Paulie?” He opened the studio door, peeking in. The room was still trashed, as expected, except everyone had gone home to do more blow and have more wild sex. It was completely empty, or so he thought.

Peter’s seven inch heels clicked against the floor as he walked around the room, inspecting the damage and reminiscing about the crazy photoshoot. He finally reached the bed and smiled at the sight before him. Paul was draped over the edge, half on the floor and wrapped in the hot pink silk sheets with a grin on his face. His eyes were closed as he giggled. He was in ecstasy.

“Paulie?” Peter approached him.

“Mmm… Peter…” Paul’s eyes fluttered open, looking up at the drummer, “Where… Where is everyone?”

“Home, Paulie. Like you should be. You’re fucked up.” 

“Mmm… I don’t wanna go home, though… Wanna stay heeeeere…” 

“Come on,” The Catman offered the Starchild his hand to help him up, but gasped when he was instead pulled on top of him. Paul giggled, wrapping his legs around Peter’s waist and hooking his ankles. His dark brown eyes met the drummer’s, and he only had one thing on his mind.

Peter chuckled nervously. The disheveled rhythm guitarist looked so gorgeous, so angelic beneath him. It’s exactly where Peter had wanted him since they first met, and drunk or not, he wanted to claim him as his own. 

He finally had his opportunity, but Ace was still waiting outside. It would be a total dick move to keep him there while he and Paul got busy.

“Paulie, I-”

“Shh.” Paul silenced him with a finger against his ruby red lips, “Just take me, daddy.”

Peter grew hard at that one sentence. _Daddy?_ It was a dream come true hearing the Starchild call him that. He felt his cock stiffen beneath his tights, and Paul giggled when he noticed, reaching down to grab it.

“Gimme the spoiler, daddy cat…” Maybe it was all the booze, but Paul couldn’t believe the size of the member in his hand. The girth, the length, the veins… He’d seen it flaccid numerous times, but to actually feel it growing hard and thick in his grasp… Paul never wanted something so bad in his life. 

The Catman shivered, feeling the guitarist stroking his cock. His body reacted, and he started shifting atop him on the bed. His pulse quickened with excitement and arousal, and he allowed himself to be pulled to lie on his back.

Suddenly, there was a solid weight on him and a deep kiss tasting faintly of whiskey and chocolate. Peter moaned into it and let his hands roam. He opened his eyes to confirm it wasn’t just fantasy. 

He pulled away from the kiss, “Mmhmmm, Paulie?”

“Yeah, daddy cat~?” Paul started to kiss his neck and chest.

“We’re really gonna do this right now?” It felt so good, and he didn’t want it to stop, but he kept being reminded of Ace standing right outside, waiting for them to appear.

“ _Yes!_ W- Want you. Please…” Paul pulled the coat off of Peter’s shoulders. “Want, need, _pleeeeeeassse!_ I need... I need to feel…”

Peter lifted his chin to look in his eyes. “Loved~?”

The big brown eyes pleaded with him. “Pl- Please, don't tell me to stop...”

“Oh, baby, never stop~” Peter wrapped his hand around the back of Paul’s neck and pulled him down for a passionate kiss.

“Mmm... Daddy cat~! Too many damn clothes and sheets,” Paul panted. By the time he kissed his way down Peter's chest, he had a clear path to suck another deep bruise on his hip.

“Paulie... have you ever-?” Peter tried to hold his instincts to tug and pull as he ran his fingers through Paul’s teased hair. The rhythm guitarist just smirked and winked before closing his lush lips over the drummer’s thickening cock. Paul's tongue slid slowly down the length of the shaft and back up. “ _Fuck!_ Ohhh...!! Kitten, _god…!_ ” He tossed his head back on the pillow, circling his hips to gently thrust into the wet heat. 

Paul paused only for a moment before moving and taking the head back in his mouth, sliding it all the way until it touched the back of his throat with the assistance of Peter’s thrusts. The drummer let out a low, drawn-out moan as he felt Paul’s throat tighten around him. Paul held it there for a moment before sliding back up, building up a slow rhythm. He moved up and down the length of Peter’s cock, using his tongue to tease it along the way. His free hand cupped Peter’s balls, gently kneading them.

“Ohh, _fuuuuuck!_ ” Peter hissed at the sensation. He couldn’t believe this was happening. This whole experience was everything he had dreamed about and more. He had always secretly hoped, and kind of wondered, if he would ever even have the _chance_ to do this. Maybe it was just the booze that was making Paul do this, but whatever... Peter wasn’t going to analyze it to death. He was just going to enjoy it while it lasted.

He felt his climax build and build, then suddenly it stopped and his wet tip became chilled.

His eyes snapped open, and he glared down at the smirking Starchild. " _Why_ did you fuckin’ stop!?"

“Becauuuse,” Paul climbed off the bed, shimmying out of his boots and tights, “I want you to fuck me. Fuck me like you’d fuck one of the groupies. Fuck me so I can’t walk for the next week.” 

Peter looked him over. That forest of chest hair formed a thin line down his navel, trimmed neatly around his pubic area. The drummer smirked. He expected no less from such a disastrous bisexual. 

Well, they _were_ alone, and Paul did look deliciously tempting as he stood before him, a giggling mess and hands roaming his slender body. He was just a very hairy woman, Peter told himself.

“Get on your hands and knees, Paulie.” Peter stood up, watching as Paul did as he was told. He stuck his ass up in the air, teasingly swaying it from side to side, seductively biting his crimson lip. Peter knelt behind him, squeezing one cheek with his hand before giving it one firm spank.

Paul moaned from the pain, squeezing his eyes shut. He could take it. In fact, he could take _a lot_ harder.

“ _Harder_ , daddy!” He yelped when Peter’s hand came down twice as hard. He wanted the bad boy from the mean streets of Brooklyn to give him everything he had. “Make me feel like a mannn…” Paul whined, feeling a big red handprint form on his ass.

The drummer reached for a half-empty tube of lubricant used earlier on during the photoshoot, squirting the rest of the sticky liquid onto the palm of his hand and coating his member, careful not to send himself over the edge right then and there. 

The impatient Starchild backed up, rubbing against the Catman’s slicked up cock and whining, “ _Peterrr…_ daddy, fuck meee!” 

He cried out when Peter spanked him harder, grabbing onto the bedpost and gritting his teeth.

“You’ll wait for daddy to fuck you and like it.” Peter grabbed a fistful of his bandmate’s dark curls, yanking his head back and inserting two fingers into his warm, wet mouth. “You got that? Impatient little slut…” The drummer quickly used the hand holding on to Paul’s hair to grab his erection and guide the head into Paul’s heat. 

Paul couldn’t hold back a loud, feminine moan at the sudden penetration, desperately wanting more, but Peter wasn’t about to give in so easily. He was so used to getting everything he wanted. For once, he was going to shut up and do as he was told.

“You want more of daddy’s cock, Paulie?” Peter bent over his back, whispering hotly in his ear, “You want the spoiler?”

Paul nodded, sucking on Peter’s two digits, saliva falling to the pink sheets below. God, that’s _all_ he wanted.

Spit bubbled out between Paul’s teeth as he fell forward when the drummer’s hot, thick cock began to fill him out. He groaned, lips curled around Peter’s fingers, and spasmed against the sheets when Peter grinded into him, letting him feel the texture between the skin and sheets and the thickness pushing inside him.

There was Peter’s free hand beside his head on the sheets, and Paul groaned again as he was pushed against the mattress with all of the drummer’s bodily weight. Paul felt Peter shift, opening his stance as he drew out and thrusted back in, shaking the entire bedframe. Seeing the new hand beside his face, though, all Paul’s eyes could focus on were those untouched fingers. Letting loose the current digits in his mouth, he reached out and pulled the new ones toward his lips. He felt the stutter in Peter’s fucking and the urging grind against his ass when he sucked up to the knuckles. 

Breathless sounds hung over the rhythm guitarist, coupled with the squeaks and pops of the mattress springs. Paul happily let his body bounce with the movements, concentrating on pushing back against Peter’s hard thrusts. A hand came underneath Paul’s jaw, forcing him to face the destroyed room as Peter’s hot breath huffed against his ear in harsh beats.

“I’ve wanted to do this for so long, Paulie… Tonight… God, tonight you looked so _damn_ good, being used and touched by everyone… I couldn’t fucking believe you just laid there, taking them one after another. God, you’re such a damn whore! You’d need permission from me if you were to ever even _consider_ doin’ that slutty shit again.”

Paul laughed against Peter’s mouth. “ _Y- Your_ permission, daddy?”

“Fuck yeah, _my_ permission.” Peter’s lips moved against Paul’s messy cheek as he spoke in his low gravelly tone. “Ain’t you _my_ baby now, kitten?”

“Ye.. _Yeah…!_ ” Paul smiled, then gasped. Air was rushing out of his throat as he was pulled back, winding his legs around the drummer’s waist. He cursed and cried, moaning and twitching as Peter’s spoiler filled him out, forcing lube out of him. Paul slumped against him, eyes struggling to keep open to look at the mess of the sheets covered in precum, bunched around them.

“Mmf, you’re better than Lydia…” Peter bit his lip, using up the last of his energy to pound in and out of Paul, his hands gripped on to his hips and sweat forming on his brow, “Not some bitch that cries when I slap her ass. Nah, you’re just a slut for my hand, aintcha, Paulie?”

The Starchild giggled. If there was one thing he loved, it was compliments, and Peter was just dishing them out like candy. He couldn’t stop smiling, blushing at the Catman’s dirty talk, feeling his massive cock filling him up like it was _meant_ to be there, like the perfect puzzle piece. He’d never felt so alive in all his 23 years. 

“P- Paulie, baby, I’m almost there…” Peter looked into his bandmate’s half-lidded eyes, feeling his climax build up as he felt Paul purposely tighten around him with a cheeky grin. “You little cocktease… lil’ minx…”

“Oh, fuck me, daddy! Fuck me so hard that Gene hears me all the way at the hotel!”

Peter wanted to laugh at the drunk guitarist’s words, but the pleasure was too much. Besides, if Gene _did_ find out about this, he’d have both of their heads on a silver platter. The Demon was probably too busy annihilating all the food his mother brought for him to care, anyway. 

The drummer cursed under his breath before picking up his pace, thrusting into Paul with ferocity, earning a squeak each time he hit his prostate. The guitarist reached down to pump his own cock, smiling up at Peter and feeling himself grow close to his own release, too. 

“Oh, kitten, _fuck!_ You better not _ever_ fuck anyone else without my permission or I’ll-” 

With one more deep thrust and loud groan, Peter came hard into Paul, panting as he continued to hit Paul’s sweet spot and ride out his own powerful orgasm. 

The guitarist felt Peter’s hot seed shoot into him, pumping his cock as fast as he could in unison with the drummer’s weakening thrusts. It didn’t take long before he, too, was releasing up his own stomach, filling the room with high-pitched moans and whines.

Peter hung his head, his dyed black hair clinging to his forehead and dangling down as Paul smiled up at him, breathless. He never wanted Peter to pull out; it felt so right, so _good_. He couldn’t believe he’d been missing out on this. No wonder Peter was a favourite with the groupies…

“Aw, man, Paulie…” The drummer breathed, watching Paul’s stomach rising and falling beneath him. “You’re a fuckin’ sweet lay, I’ll give ya that.”

“Mmm, really, daddy?” Paul giggled, feeding off the attention.

“Hell yeah. Perfect dick-sucking lips…” He leaned down, pecking the rhythm guitarist on the lips before the realization of the lead guitarist still waiting outside hit him again. “Aw, fuck! Ace!” 

“Wha… What about Ace?” 

“Left him outside all this time like a dog…” Peter chuckled, nervously. Much to Paul’s dismay, he finally pulled out with a sigh and yanked his tights back on. 

“He’s a big boy,” The Starchild smiled, stretching his arms, “I’m sure he’s fine.” 

“Yeah, yeah. He’s a big boy, but who’s bigger, baby?” Peter winked, pulling his boots back on and zipping them up. He already knew the answer to that question with full confidence and certainty. 

Paul erupted into a fit of giggles, “ _You_ , daddy cat… I think.” He’d seen Ace’s dick before, and it was impressive, but he’d never really had the chance to compare it to Peter’s. Surely, there was some competition. 

“You _think?_ ” Peter helped the drunk guitarist off the bed. He stumbled around, nearly tripping over himself as he bent over to reach for his tights, receiving a spank on the ass from Peter. “Well, too bad ya won’t get the chance to find out. I’m telling ya now that daddy cat’s bigger, anyway…”

“Aw, you won’t share me, Petey?” Paul threw his arms around Peter’s neck, pouting and giving the smaller man his best puppy-dog eyes. Those _always_ worked. 

“Hm… Lemme think… Nope! Now let’s ditch this joint.” 

Paul sighed, “I’m really gonna regret this when I’m sober…” He giggled, holding onto the drummer as they walked. The young rockstar wasn’t sure he was ready to come out of the closet, especially considering it was _illegal_. His parents would be so ashamed, his fans would probably look down on him… but drunk Paul didn’t care about that. Drunk Paul just wanted to be loved, regardless of the consequences.

“You won’t regret a damn thing, baby. You’ll realize I could set you free.” Peter gave Paul’s ass one last squeeze before taking his hand in his and heading for the door.


	2. Chapter 2

“Took ya long enough! What the fuck were you two doing in there? Jerking off?”

Paul giggled, melting into Peter’s arm around his waist as they returned to the balcony. Ace flicked his last cigarette over the railing before placing his hands on his skinny hips, waiting for an explanation as to why it took the drummer _twenty five_ minutes to fetch their wasted rhythm guitarist. 

“He, uh... needed some persuading to come out.” Peter chuckled. 

Ace simply raised an eyebrow. He knew his bandmates well enough to know something was up that they weren’t letting on about. He could tell by the flirtatious grin stretched across Paul’s face and the way he licked his lips at him, the way Peter looked like he was up to no good...

“Uh huh. Sure...” Ace tilted his head back, his mouth slightly ajar as he looked Paul over. “Paulie, you good? You still drunk?”

“Yuuuup.” Paul laughed, wiggling his fingers at Ace. The slender guitarist looked so delicious, standing there like a delectable dessert. Even with only half his face made up and the other half fucked up by his car wreck, Paul so desperately wanted to get a taste. He had only gotten a brief lick of Peter, and now Ace was next on his checklist.

“Hey, hey,” Peter muttered, gently jostling the guitarist in his grasp. “Gotta stand up straight, Paulie.”

“I, ah… I got it, Petey…” Paul smiled, folding himself over on the drummer. He hiccuped as he traced lines from one freckle to another on Peter’s chest, still keeping his head turned and his gaze on Ace.

“Damn. He’s a real clingy son of a bitch tonight, isn’t he?”

“You have no idea...”

Without warning, Paul lunged forward, wrapping his arms around the lead guitarist’s neck and pressing their lips together. Ace stared back at his bandmate, wondering what the hell had come over him, but he didn’t push him off. He, too, had had his fair share of alcohol, and he was feeling just as frisky and carefree. Despite Peter standing right there next to them, Ace let his hands fall to rest on Paul’s hips, stroking softly as he finally closed his eyes and relaxed into the kiss.

The Starchild smiled against the Spaceman’s black lips, his tongue soon snaking its way into his mouth to playfully battle with Ace’s. Paul moaned as the kiss turned sloppy, completely disregarding Peter’s look of disbelief. He wanted Ace so bad it hurt, and Peter was more than welcome to watch if he wanted, or hell, even participate, but he knew the Catman wasn’t one for sharing.

“Paul! Ace! Break it up! We’re _outside_ , you fuckers!” Peter snarled, punching Ace in the arm. “You want people to think we’re a buncha fags!?”

Peter’s words fell on deaf ears as Ace waved him away, letting Paul continue to practically shove his tongue down his throat. Only the low levels of oxygen in their lungs could break them apart, and as they desperately pulled away for air, Ace cackled. He gently laid his forehead against Paul’s, his brown almond eyes staring back at the rhythm guitarist in shock, “Well… Damn. That’s a ‘hello’ for ya. Jeez, what’s gotten into you, Curly?”

Paul only giggled, wiping his mouth with the back of his hand, smearing red and black lipstick across his cheek. 

“Um, yeah?” Peter crossed his arms, “The fuck did I just say to you literally _five minutes_ ago?”

The Starchild looked over at Peter, remembering the Catman had ‘claimed’ him in bed and had almost threatened him in a way if he were to mess around with anyone else, but he gasped when Ace grabbed his ass and squeezed. Paul giggled, playfully smacking his chest. 

“Ace? The fuck?” Peter wanted to knock his bandmate out. It took everything in him to hold back as he watched, jealously. 

“Oh, sorry, Cat, are you two married now or some shit? Sorry, didn’t know. Your wife’s hot, though, if I do say so myself...” Ace laughed, nuzzling Paul’s nose with his. “Hotter than your other wife, that’s for damn sure!”

“You motherfucker…!” If Peter were a cartoon, he swore smoke would be coming out of his ears. Ace didn’t know when to shut up. 

Paul was quickly pulled from Ace’s hold, Peter stepping in front of him protectively. He jabbed a finger directly into Ace’s chest, shoving him back, “You better not fuckin’ kiss him again, man, or I’ll-”

“Petey, stop it.” Paul ordered, stepping between them to stop any unnecessary drama. He was drunk and all he wanted was to have a little fun, but knowing Peter, violence was inevitable. 

“Nuh uh, you get back.” Peter growled, grabbing Paul’s arm and tugging him behind again. Paul whined, looking back at Ace and reaching out to him.

“Bu- But we were just havin’ some fun...”

“Not when I told you ten minutes ago that I don’t want you doin’ that shit!”

Ace rolled his eyes, leaning back against the railing. “Curly, lighten up. We're all drunk. We’re allowed to be a lil’ free and loose here.”

“I’m not-- Ace, you--!!”

“Petey! Stop!” Paul exclaimed, rubbing his face into Peter’s neck. He pressed his lips against the side of his neck, hoping to calm the drummer. It definitely got Peter to turn towards him and not keep his fists raised at Ace.

“Kitten…”

“Y’know… I did have a little idea...” Paul giggled, “Why don’t the three of us… head back to the hotel and have some more fun?”

The Catman scoffed, looking past him at Ace, “Pfft. You, me, n’ Ace? After _that?_ Nope. I ain’t sharing Paulie.”

“Neither am I, Curly!”

“Oh, girls, girls, stop acting like jealous teenagers.” Paul rolled his eyes, hiccuping, “And I thought _I_ was a drama queen… Come on. There’s plenty of me to go around. I’ll show you _both_ a good time.” He turned to Ace and winked. He knew he had both men wrapped around his finger. 

Peter and Ace stared each other down before Peter finally sighed in defeat. Paul never took no for an answer. He had no choice. 

“...Fine. Fuckin’ _fine_. But just this once.”

The ride to the hotel was awkward to say the least. Paul sat between his bandmates, one hand stroking Peter’s upper thigh and the other rubbing at Ace’s hardening cock. The taxi driver had no clue as to what was going on, thankfully, until the Celestial let out a loud moan, but he didn’t dare say anything. As drunk and confident as he was currently, Paul would have told him to do his job and mind his own damn business, anyway. 

“Paulie… _ha_ … oh, god… _fuck_...”

Peter scowled at the lead guitarist, wanting so badly to pull Paul’s hand away from him and have him all to himself. After today, he swore the Starchild was all his. He wasn’t sharing him with _nobody_.

The taxi soon pulled up to the hotel, and Ace stumbled out followed by Paul while Peter got out the opposite side. Peter, naturally, got stuck with the tab while Paul took Ace’s hand in his and headed to the building, almost skipping with joy and excitement.

“Hey, wait up, dickwads!” Peter called, his small legs trying their best to keep up.

“Oh, sorry, daddy...” Paul stopped and hooked the smaller man’s arm.

 _“Daddy_ _?”_ Ace asked, “...What the hell happened in the studio while I was outside? Did you two actually fuck or somethin’?”

“Ace, shut the fuck up…” Peter rolled his eyes. They ignored the hotel clerks staring at them as they walked through the lobby to the elevator, and as soon as the doors shut, Paul threw himself onto Peter, thrusting his tongue between the drummer’s lips. Ace held the Starchild from behind, stroking up his arm and sucking on his neck, leaving black lipstick stains and trails of saliva. Paul felt the lead guitarist bruise him as he sucked his tender flesh, his hard member brushing against his ass as the elevator began to move.

By the time it reached their floor, the elevator was filled with gasps and moans and whimpers, and none of the men were sure if they could make it back to the room. Ace kissed up Paul’s back before the doors reopened and they rushed out, Peter picking up Paul bridal style and running ahead. 

“H- Hey, wait, ya fucker!” Ace tripped over himself, falling to the carpeted floor. He could tell he’d have to fight Peter for the rhythm guitarist’s attention, but he was confident he could out-charm the drummer any day. He quickly got back up, stumbling behind his bandmates who had already reached the room and were turning the key in the lock. 

“Baby, hurry!” Paul called, giggling as Peter tried to close the door on him. 

“Oh, no you fuckin’ don’t!” Ace caught the door with his foot, quickly squirming through the crack and into the room. 

“Goddammit…” Peter mumbled, meeting Ace’s glare as he slipped past him. He grabbed the door again and went to slam it.

“Wait, wait!” The Starchild tried to catch his breath as he reached into the bedside drawer, pulling out the _‘Do Not Disturb’_ sign and hanging it on the doorknob outside. Once back in the room, he turned to his bandmates, immediately charging at Ace and throwing them both on the bed in a fit of giggles. He pressed his plump lips back against Ace’s, pulling his triangular neck piece over his head and beginning to work on his bodysuit.

“Oh, I guess just fuck me, then...” Peter shrugged, watching in annoyance as Paul grinded against Ace below him. “I’m just chopped liver over here…”

“Aw, daddy, don’t be jealous. Join us...” The rhythm guitarist smiled at him, his two front teeth peeking out from behind his mouth. He was too irresistible, the Catman had to admit, but Peter went out of his way to make sure Paul knew he was pissed off. 

“I _don’t_ share.” He growled.

“But you said you would! Just this once!” Paul pouted, crawling to the edge of the bed to look up at Peter, “C’mon, daddy… it’ll be fun.”

“Suck my dick.” The drummer wasn’t having it, but was taken by surprise when Paul was suddenly tugging at his tights, his half-erect cock springing free. “The fuck are you doing, Paulie?” He looked down, Paul’s big sad eyes meeting his. 

“Sucking your dick.” Paul grinned before wrapping his lips around Peter’s cock. The drummer couldn’t help but throw his head back as Paul took him all the way back in his throat, his tongue wetly caressing the shaft. The Starchild felt his tights being pulled down to his knees and a hand massaging his love handle as Peter grabbed a fistful of his curly hair. Paul perked up as he faintly heard the tearing of a condom and the opening and closing of a bottle of lube, spreading his legs in anticipation.

He felt Ace place a hand on his hip, and wriggled as a lubed finger slipped past his entrance. Paul sucked in a deep breath when Ace’s finger suddenly stroked his prostate. 

“Just testin’ the waters, Paulie~” He crooned sweetly, retracting his index finger and pushing a second one in. He scissored his fingers inside Paul, encouraged by his delicious, high-pitched moans. It was quite the delightful imagery, in fact, to watch Paul try to keep himself together as he sucked Peter’s cock.

“You’re so beautiful, baby~” Ace cheered him on, removing his fingers once he had stretched the rhythm guitarist out to his liking.

Paul moaned and hummed against Peter’s member as Ace entered him, the length of the guitarist stretching him out even more and making his knees almost buckle. 

“Oh, _fuck_ , Curly... You’re tight as fuck.” Ace gripped onto Paul’s hips, wasting no time thrusting in and making Paul’s mouth move back up Peter’s cock.

“Mmhm… His mouth is beyond compare~” Peter hummed. _Damn,_ Paul really did know how to work it when he wasn’t ranting or bitching at them. Peter especially loved the sight of it, stretching wide and sliding down his Spoiler. There was something impressive about how Paul took him in without so much as a pause for breath. Peter moaned loudly, his gaze dark and heavy as he stared down at him, watching him bob his head.

Ace smiled lazily. He could so perfectly picture what Paul looked like from that angle, his dark lashes fanned across the tops of his cheeks, his red mouth vacuum-tight against the thick shaft parting his lips. Arousal pulsed through the lead guitarist’s body, tainted by drops of jealousy as he watched Paul’s throat work Peter.

The feeling was mutual. Peter’s eyes trailed on past Paul’s perfect body to the skinny guitarist plugging his ass with his cock, thrusting in over and over and over again. If his hands weren’t on Paul, they’d be balled by his sides as he tried to resist leaning over and strangling Ace. The fucker couldn’t let him have Paul for even one night before he decided he wanted a slice...

Still. There really was something so beautiful about watching Ace reduce somebody down to lusty whines and moans. Desire hung heavy in the hotel room, almost palpable as it floated around them.

Peter shut his eyes, holding his head back and staring at the image as it lingered in his mind. Besides Paul being their bandmate and sleeping with him first, there was no difference between this and any other time he and Ace had shared a groupie. Sure, they hadn’t had a lot of threesomes, but the ones they had shared felt so similar, and dare he say, nostalgic.

Paul was right. Peter wouldn’t admit it, especially right now, but they could share this _one_ time.

Ace glanced up at Peter, opening his mouth and letting out another thready moan. God, Paul was as good as, if not _better_ , than women at this.

“He really knows what he wants, don’t he, Petey?” Ace chuckled, giving him a wolfish grin.

“Yeah…” Peter sighed, lightly pulling at Paul’s hair balled up in his grasp. “Fuck yeah.” Peter was impressed by his skill. Although he was mostly focused on what Paul was doing, it was hard not to notice the increasing rate that Ace was pounding into him at. In fact, it was shaking the bed. “Ace, don’t you fuckin’ break him!”

“Awk, me?! He took your damn Spoiler earlier! I think he can handle a lil’ outta this world cosmic pounding~”

“Yeah, whatever. You break his ass, though, and I’ll punch you so hard you’ll see stars.”

“Don’t be an asshole.” Ace rolled his eyes. Just when he thought they were getting on the same page, too, Peter had to open his trap and ruin it.

The Starchild narrowed his eyebrows, pulling off of Peter with a loud pop and twisting his head back as far as he could. It was like dealing with a couple of bratty children fighting over a toy, and Paul had had just about enough of it. 

"YOU ASSHOLES BETTER GET A GRIP BEFORE I WALK OUT THIS DAMN ROOM AND NEVER COME BACK! ONE MORE SQUEAK OUT OF EITHER OF YOU, AND I'M GONE. NOW SHUT THE FUCK UP AND FUCK ME!" He grit his teeth, finally silencing his bandmates. Ace and Peter froze before sharing a look of surprise. Paul was definitely one to be feared when angry, and they weren’t about to take that risk. They didn’t call him Mother Hen for nothing.

Getting the message, Ace resumed his thrusting at a steady pace while Peter gently lifted Paul’s chin and guided himself back in his mouth.

The mattress creaked beneath them as Paul pushed back against Ace, balling the sheets up in his fists and sucking the drummer down as far as he could. He rolled his hips and tightened around the lead guitarist, reveling in the whining and grunting he’d only _dreamed_ of hearing Ace make. Paul couldn’t help but smile; he knew for a fact he was twice the lay Lydia or Jeanette was. He could do things to their men they could _never_ do, and he was damn proud of it. 

He breathed heavily through his nose, feeling Peter’s salty precum run down his throat. He could tell the drummer was close, but Ace seemed like he had a lot more left in him. He’d cross that bridge when he got to it, though, he thought, reaching a hand up to fondle the drummer’s balls like a pair of large marbles, rolling them in between his fingers and in his palm. 

“Shit, Paulie, _SHIT_.” Peter’s eyes nearly rolled back into his head as he thrusted into Paul’s mouth, cumming even stronger than he had earlier in the studio. The Starchild quickly swallowed his load before pulling off with a gasp, desperate for air after having his mouth stuffed for so long.

Peter fell back against the wall, watching as Ace pulled out and re-positioned Paul against the pillows.

“I just gotta kiss you, Paulie.” He smashed their lips together, slipping back into the rhythm guitarist and quickening his pace. Jealousy consumed Peter. He hated Ace at that moment, but Paul lying there and just taking a pounding like that… the way he turned his head on the pillow to look at Peter, his eyes lustfully half-lidded and mouth open… he looked so gorgeous. Peter couldn’t find it in himself to stop them. 

The Starchild rested his arms above his head like he was some sexy Playboy centerfold, wrapping his legs tightly around Ace’s waist and forcing him in deeper. He whined as the head of Ace’s cock hit his prostate, and as much as he desperately wanted to reach down and jerk himself off, he couldn’t help but enjoy being, as Gene would put it, a pillow princess. He never fully understood when the Demon would tease him like an older sibling with that name, but now he did and he thoroughly loved and embraced it. 

Ace panted as sweat trickled down his skinny torso, feeling himself getting closer to the breaking point. Fucking Paul _was_ like fucking a Playboy model, only Paul was ten times more beautiful. His eyes glistened as he looked up at the Celestial, desperation filling him up and energy quickly declining. 

“Oh, hurry the fuck up already…” Peter mumbled, rolling his eyes. Beating his fist against the ugly wallpaper behind him, he tried not to growl as he watched them shift against each other. He was definitely not lending Paul to anyone else after this fiasco. He wasn’t even this protective over his own _wife_.

The way Paul’s whines got louder and louder didn’t exactly make him feel any better about the situation, either. _Was Ace a better lover than he was?_ Peter tried to shake the thought, looking away and crossing his arms. 

The Starchild bit his lip, feeling himself getting close. “C’mon, baby,” He encouraged Ace, “Cum for me.”

“ _P- Paulie_ …” Ace buried his face in Paul’s neck, his legs trembling from the sheer force of his thrusts, and in the blink of an eye, he was cumming in hot spurts, clutching at the sheets below until his knuckles turned white.

Paul sighed in disappointment as Ace quickly pulled out, the bulge in his stomach from Ace's long cock disappearing. The lead guitarist pulled the filled condom off, lazily throwing it against the wall. He’d be sure to wreck the rest of the hotel room later. 

“That so you don’t get him pregnant, Space Ace?” Peter eyed the condom. How pathetic, he thought. 

“Well, y'know, I can’t afford no kids right now, Cat.” Ace cackled, leaning back on the bed. He knew the drummer was still furious, still jealous and sour about having to share Paul, and he absolutely loved it. He loved getting on his best friend’s nerves like that. 

“You just gonna fuckin’ leave him like that, ya selfish prick?” Peter motioned toward the rhythm guitarist, still rock hard as Ace sat there with a smile on his face. 

The Celestial glanced down, realizing Peter was right. “Aw, fuck me. Sorry, Curly…” Without hesitation, Ace spat in the palm of his hand before wrapping it around Paul’s cock, pumping up and down and occasionally squeezing the head. He really had a gift for it, Paul thought. It didn’t take long for him to climax, his feminine moaning filling the room and his seed spilling out onto Ace’s fist. He collapsed against the pillows, giggling and sighing in relief. 

Ace laid down next to him, stroking his thick chest hair as Paul enjoyed his afterglow. Every last ounce of energy he had had been fully and completely expended.

The bed dipped, and Paul heard grumbles and harsh whispers before the sheets were suddenly thrown over his head. Tiredly, he threw his arm up and pulled them off to see Peter shoving Ace’s costume into his arms and pointing at the door.

“ _Noooooo!_ Peter... I deserve a kiss goodbye...” Paul muttered, pouting.

“Awk! Don’t worry, baby, I got ya.” Ace grinned, smoothly sliding past Peter before he could oppose. He ran around the side of the bed, leaning over and granting Paul his kiss. His lips were soft and sweet like candy, and Paul never wanted to stop tasting them. 

“Gimme a call if you ever wanna hook up or if ‘daddy’s’ out for the night~ I won’t say no to a repeat performance.” Ace winked flirtatiously.

“Out.” Peter snapped, folding his arms. He’d had enough of Ace’s stalling.

“Alright, alright,” Ace said, pulling his costume back on, “I’m goin’ to Gene’s room. Hopefully, he left me some of his Ma’s famous cake.”

“I hope he snaps your pinky fingers off.” Peter told him before slamming the door in his face. He turned back around with a sigh.

 _Finally rid of that cockblocking_ _clown_.

Paul stared at him, his post-orgasm mentality still too sluggish and drunk to fully process the events of the evening. “Don’t tell me you wouldn’t wanna do that again…” He giggled as Peter sat down next to him. He didn’t know about the drummer, but it was definitely the best day of the rhythm guitarist’s life, one he wouldn’t soon forget, that was for sure.

“Ace ain’t such hot shit. Besides, now you know for a _fact_ who’s bigger.”

“Yep. Ace is pretty huge…” Paul giggled, squealing as Peter beat him with a pillow. “Aw, Petey, you’re not jealous, are you?”

“Ain’t jealous…” Peter scoffed, lying through his teeth. “Now give daddy a kiss~”

Paul cupped the Catman’s face as he leaned down to press their ruby lips together. Peter would have stayed that way for the rest of his days if he had the choice, but all good things come to an end, eventually. He gently pulled away, smiling against Paul’s mouth, “Aw yeah. That’s the kind of sugar Papa likes…”


End file.
